


Tattoos and Torture

by Abhorable



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Bad Ending, Borderlands 3 Spoilers, Character Death, Character Death In Dream, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Major Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:48:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29981055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abhorable/pseuds/Abhorable
Summary: Krieg has a wonderful dream, until he doesn't.
Relationships: Krieg & Maya (Borderlands), Krieg/Maya (Borderlands)
Kudos: 7





	Tattoos and Torture

Krieg smiled as Maya collapsed into his shoulder, humming softly as she did so. He loved moments like this most of all. He'd finished work out at the site, knowing his muscles could move mountains if he tried to push them. Maya would return as well, complaining about yet another person begging for a wolf skull tattoo instead of the raccoon they were showing her. Then they'd collapse on the couch with a movie, the artist caressing his scuffles and scars for the rest of the evening as she began to drift into unconsciousness.

"Hey, Maya," He began to mutter.  
"Hmm," She seemed half-asleep, pushing some of that blue hair out of her face so she could groggily look up at her lover.  
"You ever wonder how things could've been different?" He gazed down at her with his good eye.  
"Always." Giving one of her signature sweet smiles, she looked content. "But I don't think I'd like them as much if they were." She set a hand on his chest and snuggled deeper into the nook between him and the couch.

"Okay."

Krieg hummed. He wanted her to be happy, really. He always did feel inadequate with the tiny markings littering his form. The larger was a fighter beyond all else. After enlisting in the army when he was younger, he was marred with a myriad of tiny markings. After he lost his eye, well, they didn’t exactly want someone like that despite the record for pure carnage he had.  
There she lay, though. Despite it all, she still curled up beneath his hulking arms and muscles. Instead of berating him for what he was, she would curl between him and the couch with a smile.

She was a genius with her hands. She could replicate the wing of a dragonfly in minutes. And then she could even smack it on your wrist for about fifty bucks. But she insisted that Krieg stay clear of ink. He wanted a small marking of her much larger tribal tattoos, well he assumed they were tribal anyway, somewhere on his body. She said they were personal. He left it at that.  
He worked construction jobs, the city of Pandora was full of them. Everything was constantly in peril, after all. Well. Legally anyway. Because of all the issues with the building codes enforced. Not literal peril.

He scanned the bulk of their apartment, afraid something had changed somehow. It was small. Three, no, four rooms. A kitchen, half wall and bar between their living room. A bedroom and attached bathroom on the edge of the living room. They could afford a home, truly, but they preferred the cramped space. Felt more… Homey, really.  
A big flatscreen sat against the wall, the large suede couch across from it and pushed against the wall. Yeah. That’s where they were.  
Maybe?

Everything felt wrong all of a sudden.

He felt groggy. He still laid down, so nothing was wrong yet. Setting a hand on his face, he touched the metal mask that adorned him at all times. It hit him like a train. Damnit, why’d he have to think about _trains_?  
It was all a… dream. A very nice dream.

With his ungloved hand, he began to pat down the side of the bed that was once hers. As usual, it remained cool. She’d been gone before she even began, really. Before they began, anyways.  
He was sure he loved her, watching her every moment as he tore apart skags, then feeling the ripping claws of one against his back before he rolled over, crushing the poor thing in his wake. She laughed really hard at that. Maya had dimples when her lips curled skyward. The glint in those icy eyes sent him over the moon and back. He couldn’t get that skag claw out of his back for a week until she pulled it out herself. His lip twitched.  
Whether she loved him was a different story. He always felt as if she was untouchable, so why would the babblings of a psycho entrap her? The entrapping siren, stuck in the hovel of a madman without much reason? He couldn’t really see her being stuck with someone, well, someone like him. Unless she did love him the way he loved her. Which wasn’t possible. So it puzzled him, constantly.  
He felt again over the cold fabric, fingers twitching as they ran against the pillow. She used to be so warm for her small size. Like a personal space heater. He wanted her back.

Nothing was the same without her, really.

 _"Different. Things could've been different if we'd protected her."_  
His body stifled a groan, stuttering in the process. He was frustrated.  
_"Did you hear me, Psycho?"_  
"BONES AND BLOOD BEYOND, THERE'S NOTHING FOR ME WHEN THE REAPER SINGS ITS UNHOLY WRATH!" He screamed into the hole of their home. If Krieg could cry, he would be in the midst of a pure fit right now.  
_"Yeah. We'll be going to hell, alright."_  
“BLOOD CURDLING ACUPUNCTURE OF THE HEART-PORCUPINE! NOTHING BUT WHAT IS LOST CAN BE FOUND!”  
Krieg was taken aback by his own statement, honestly. When the beast inside him wanted to, it really spoke profoundly. If you can understand him, anyway.

Regardless, Maya was dead. She was gone.  
Sobbing. His body sobbed.

**Author's Note:**

> I would die for them okay  
> I'm playing Krieg's DLC with my boyfriend right now and this has ripped my heart to pieces. I just want them to be happy. Please. It's all I want.
> 
> Also, I'll post some quick art for this on my instagram probably! Feel free to follow @ab.horable or @ab.sketche  
> Or don't  
> You're not my slave


End file.
